


Hide and Seek

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 8th year, Drarry, Hide and Seek, M/M, party games (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 00:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12594388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: Harry's drunk.  Malfoy isn't.  There might be a closet involved.





	Hide and Seek

**Author's Note:**

> Based on anonymous tumblr request for a closet drabble.

Harry runs down the hallway, making far more noise than he should be for hide and seek.  But he is  drunk.  Well they are all a bit drunk really.  So he hopes the noises he makes as he stumbles into the wall will be lost in the choas of giggles and heavy footsteps he can hear as the other 8th years take off running around in opposite directions throughout the darkened corridors.

All he knows is he can’t get caught.  He is good at hiding.  He can definitely do this.  If only it didn’t seem to take so much concentration to put one foot in front of the other.

“Buggering fuckity fuck,” he curses, tripping and stumbling into a suit of armor.  Except this suit of armor is solid and warm, and smells  _really_ fucking good.

“Unhand me this instant! Oh, Potter, should’ve known it was you.  My god you’re loud.”

 _Oh_ , so not a suit of armor then.

“What’re you doing here?”  Harry is rather proud of himself for getting out a full sentence.  Even in the dark he can see the other boy rolling his eyes at him.

“I’m playing this ridiculous muggle game like the rest of you.  Though Merlin only knows why because its incredibly juvenile and unbecoming of-” but Harry cuts him off, shoving his hand over Malfoy’s mouth when he hears someone coming.  He tries really hard not to notice how soft and warm Malfoy’s mouth feels beneath his fingers, and curses the fact that he’s wearing a thin pair of joggers and not a robe like the other boy because if he does any more noticing about Malfoy’s mouth and skin its gonna become pretty damn obvious.

Malfoy looks rather annoyed at being interupted, but he’s also clearly heard someone coming too because he doesn’t hex Harry.  Instead he grabs him by the front of his jumper and drags him into the closest broom closet a few feet away, shoving him inside roughly.

Harry swallows down a lump in this throat, not at all pleased to be in a fucking cupboard with his entire body pressed up against Draco Malfoy who has his finger held up to Harry’s mouth as if to silence him.  As if Harry is too stupid to know not to make a noise.

Or perhaps the problem is exactly that he’s far too pleased to be in this situation.  All he knows is he’s too drunk for this, too drunk not to reveal far too much.

“We can’t…can’t both be, um…be inside.  You can be inside, um me.  Or no I mean I want to be inside.  Wait no…fuck.”

Malfoy arches one elegant eyebrow at Harry, making him try to tug his jumper down farther as if that would hide his obvious reaction to being so close to the other boy.

“Your powers of articulation never cease to amaze me.”

Harry feels like his head is spinning and he doesn’t think it has anything to do with the copious amounts of firewhiskey hes had tonight.  “Why the bloody fuck aren’t you drunk?”

“Because unlike some people I have an impeccably high level or decorum and self preservation and had no desire to spend our last night at Hogwarts making a complete and utter arse out of myself.”

Harry just huffs out a breath, wishing now he hadn’t had so much to drink because try as he might he can’t think of anything remotely smart or funny to say back to that.  To his horror all that comes out of his mouth is a tiny sort of huffing sound as Malfoy presses him back into the wall.  Malfoy is talking, asking him something as his hand comes up over Harry’s shoulder and presses into the wall.  His voice is in Harry’s ear, whispering something but all Harry can focus on is that fact that even though Draco is barely an inch talling than him he feels him practically looming over him, as if Draco’s body is consuming it.  Harry blinks at him suddenly when he realizes he’s stopped talking, trying desperately to look in Malfoy’s eyes and not at his lips.  “What?”

“Suppose that answers my question about how drunk you are.”

“M’not that drunk,” Harry lies, clenching his hands at his sides to stop himself from touching the other boy.

Malfoy laughs.  Harry wants to blame the alcohol for thinking its the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

“I’m quite certain whoever was looking for us is gone you know.  We can leave now.”

It doesn’t escape Harry’s notice that despite his words Malfoy doesn’t look like he’s about to move.  It gives Harry all the courage he needs before his hands are fisted tight in the front of Malfoy’s robe, pulling him closer and slamming their lips together.  He swallows down the noise of surprise Malfoy makes, making up for what he lacks in finesse with enthusiasm,

In the back of his mind Harry swears he hears someone yanking the closet door open, swears he hears someone shouting they’ve been found and can move, but he ignores them in favor of sucking Malfoy’s bottom lip into his mouth and grinding up against him.  He doesn’t care about the game, about whoever is there watching them, all he cares about is making sure that Malfoy never ever stops touching him.

 


End file.
